Just Friends'
by ReallyRobin666
Summary: "You have plenty of friends, Drake. Why just him?" Damian confronts Tim in the Batcave and Tim says something he regrets, He goes to talk to Conner in Smallville. "We're more than 'just friends'...right?" Tim/Kon. Could be slash if you look right Pre New 52.


**AN: First story, kind of a big event. I had the idea for this yesterday and did my best to write it all down. Yeah, it's hinted Tim/Kon or you can see it as a strong friendship.  
I DO NOT OWN DC, just my ideas  
Oh, and reviews would be _really _nice. THANK YOU**

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"You have other friends, _Drake_" emphasis on his last name… "Why did it have to be _him?"_ emphasis added again as the demon spawn crossed his arms over his chest. A very grown up gesture from one so short…Tim would have laughed if he wasn't struggling to find an answer for the question. Was this some sort of interrogation? He couldn't fathom what had suddenly made Damian so interested when he was usually only concerned about before was whether or not Tim was going to leave or_ die _any time soon  
Tim shrugged, keeping his focus on the screen in front of him as he worked to piece all the evidence of his latest excursion together. "It's not your business".  
Damian clicked his teeth in that overly dramatic, increasingly annoying 'tt' sound to show that he was aggravated. A small triumph that Tim took a moment to celebrate. _Score._

"You're not _involved_ with him, are you?" the implications where immense and Tim felt the tip of his ears grow warm. Did Damian even understand what that meant?

Or was he just parroting something he had heard from someone. _Probably Jason. _Tim added.  
"Well?" Damian was waiting expectantly and Tim cleared his throat, realizing that he had been standing perfectly still—something that would only serve to make Damian even more suspicious.  
"No. We're not _involved_" he said the word like it was something completely unattractive and Damian raised an eyebrow, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for more.

"Ko—Superboy is a part of the team" _awesome Drake, way to slip up and make it look like a flat out denial. So cliché. Boy if Kon could hear you now…_a sarcastic thought until he realized that it was an actual possibility. He let out a silent groan, holding back the urge to turn and pop Damian in the jaw. No one would benefit from that, especially if Alfred was around to see…he glanced around quickly, noting the absence of the silver-haired member of the family, just in case he had a lapse in self-control and judgment.  
"Your reason only brings you back to the former question" Damian's tone was dripping with smug triumph and Tim swore he could hear a silent _imbecile _at the end of the sentence.  
His jaw tightened in aggravation, he was tired of playing Damian's stupid games, _especially_ when he was working, and the topic _was _making him uncomfortable as Damian pried further…_very _uncomfortable.  
"What do you have to say for yourself, Drake?" Damian knew how to push Tim over the edge and it seemed like he was putting an awful amount of effort into the question, playing to see if Tim would snap. Tim's fist tightened in front of his cape, hidden where even Damian's shrewd eyes couldn't see.  
"Superboy is a part of the team" he repeated slowly, measured, fighting to keep the burning aggravation out of his voice "I would have done the same for any of them"

There was a pause before he heard Damian shift positions and the faint patter of gloved fingers tapping against a Kevlar sleeve  
"The one called Impulse was dead, and you did _nothing_. Your very Father died and you simply mourned" each word was dripping with pride, as if inside Damian was celebrating his victory inside his head with a huge parade and fireworks "_why _go so far for the _clone_?"  
The clone, the clone…that was all Damian ever called Kon-El, and always it was with disdain. He didn't have a high opinion of the Kryptonian meta, Tim was well aware of that, but hearing the stinging way in which Damian spoke Conner's name—_no, not his name_ Tim reminded himself _Damain would never acknowledge the fact that Kon-el even had __a name—_infuriated him.  
Damain jumped back as Tim whirled suddenly, his cape scattering all the papers he had laid out so carefully right before Damian's little 'interview' had started.

"Stop it Damian! Kon-el is **just. a. friend! **and if you call him 'the clone' one more time, I'm going to rip that look off your—" Tim stopped, his chest heaving as he clenched his teeth so hard it felt like he was going to dislocate his jaw. This was what Damian had wanted, to provoke him, make him upset, to prove his point by making him angry—but the look in Damian's face was one of genuine surprise and even…wait, was that fear? _...ugh..._  
A pang of guilt, ever so faint, rose in Tim's heart and he stepped back, realizing that he was standing in the middle of hours of hard work and even worse, he'd actually _scared _Damian. _Crap. _  
"Never mind Damian, it doesn't matter what I did or _why _I did it. Just _go_" he still wasn't fully in control and he half expected some stinging comeback, but Damian just turned on his heel and headed towards the staircase. No doubt to talk to Dick about their little encounter. _I'm going to hear about this later…_it was more of a side thought than anything and Tim leaned against the frame of the giant computer, sinking to the floor once he was sure the demon child was fully gone.

_CrapCrapCrapCrapCrap  
_It was a repeated chant in his head and he sighed, wiping his face with his hands before looking up at the almost imperceptible ceiling.  
What had he done? He felt so sick, and not because he'd lost his cool, or threatened to hurt Damian—he was actually kind of proud of that—but because he'd handled everything so horribly and utterly _wrong. _  
_'Just a friend'? _What was he thinking? What if Conner _had _heard? What if he thought that Tim had actually _meant _it? Conner was smarter than he looked, but also a heckuvalot more tender. It was one of his quirks, one that Tim found achingly _right. _  
_"Kon…I'm so sorry" _he whispered the words under his breath, as if somehow they would sooth the guilt that was pooling inside and make everything right _"I didn't mean it…you're so much more than 'just a friend'"_  
His gloved fist tightened and he reached for the nearest bunch of papers, gathering them into a careful stack before tossing them aside with a frustrated sigh. What had he done?

.

.

"Hey man, what's going on?" When Conner came sauntering up the walk, Tim thought his heart would go through his throat. Conner had actually shown up. Relief would have calmed his jumpy heart, if not for the guilt that was making it burn in the first place.  
_You need to make this right, Tim…__**then **__you can die._ His little pep-talk did nothing to improve how he was feeling and he turned his focus onto his hands, waiting for the tips of Conner's shoes to come into his peripheral vision. _Black Nubuck Timberland's…nice._  
He was trying to distract himself, wishing that maybe Conner would find something distracting to look at too, but his hope was disappointed.  
"You're not going to look at me after I came all this way?" Conner was teasing and Tim allowed himself a small smile.  
"We're in Smallville" _dork "I'm _the one who came 'all this way'" he couldn't help but reply. What was now friendly banter hadn't started off that way—there had been a lot of friction between them at first—but now their exchanges came as naturally as breathing. Which, Tim admitted, was actually incredibly difficult at the moment.

"What can I do for you?" Conner's tone was pleasant enough and Tim just looked down, his fists balling together between his knees as he leaned his forearms against his thighs.  
"Is something wrong?" It was beginning to cross the Kryptonian's mind that something wasn't right, and he sat down, leaning around to try to catch a glimpse of his friend's face.  
"Seriously Tim, you're pale—" for a half second, Tim expected Conner to break out into a huge grin and add something like _'you know, for a guy who spends all of his time in a cave and only goes out at night' _but he didn't, and Tim found himself marveling again at the deep maturity and caring attitude that lay underneath all those layers of pure _jock._

Tim shook his head and chewed on his lip nervously, a habit he'd only just picked up.

I messed up Kon, I said something I shouldn't have. If you're mad, I understand…but what I said wasn't true…everything I've ever told you THAT is the truth, not what I said to that little creep…

Had Conner been a telepath or an empath he would have understood what the silence meant, but his range of powers didn't include either of those abilities and the silence was making him extremely uncomfortable…Oh he was usedto silence. You kind of get accustomed to it when your BFF is the former sidekick of _BATMAN _and every bit as broody_. _He could handle Tim's usual brand of silence—Tim was a quiet guy by nature, more reflective that outreaching, but this quietness…this was different. This was _bad _quiet. This silence was eerie, creepy, and freaking him out.  
"Tim?" He prompted, not sure if he should touch him or not "Tim, man, talk to me"  
Silence  
"Tim" This time it came out a little more sharply and Tim's head moved, his fists clenching and un-clenching as he took a deep breath  
"Conner, I…" He stopped, realizing that he didn't really know where to start. He didn't even know if Conner had heard or not, and if he was mad he was doing a great job of hiding it. There were too many variables and so he said the only thing that seemed _right_.  
"I'm sorry…"  
Silence.  
Conner looked confused. "Sorry? Wha- Tim, what happened?"  
Tim went on like he hadn't heard the question "It wasn't what it sounded like…I messed up, messed up _so badly _and if you're angry—"  
The Kryptonian grabbed Tim's shoulders, forcing the former Robin to look him in the eye "Slow down. Exactly _what _did you mess up and _why _would I be angry?" He was nothing short of alarmed and Tim bit his lip, trying his best to avoid staring at Conner's alien-blue eyes.  
_Take a deep breath Drake. _He followed his own advice, inhaling slowly and then blowing the air out between his lips in a concentrated stream  
"Yesterday in _The Cave_—Damian asked about…" he stopped, deciding it would be best to _not_ go too far into detail "well, about_ you_…" he shot a quick glance in Conner's direction, checking to see the Meta's reaction. He still looked confused so Tim decided to go on.

"I didn't want him asking any more questions…so I told him that you're just…that _we're_ 'just friends'" it nearly choked him and Conner blinked. _Really? Was that why Tim looked ready to hang himself?  
_"But we _are _friends" _Jock moment.  
_  
Tim shook his head "No, I mean _yes, _but no. We're more than _just friends_ Kon-er" he added, throwing a glance over his shoulder to see if anyone nearby had hear him slip up. Not that there was anyone around really. The High School had been deserted for well over an hour. "_right_…?"

Silence. And this time it was Tim who was growing uneasy. What if Conner didn't understand?

Conner shrugged casually "Yeah, I mean…" he stopped, realizing that even though Tim probably _knew _what he was going to say, there was still that bit of self-doubt that kept the former Robin hurting.  
Generally, it wouldn't come through so much, but there were always _those moments _where he realized just how much Tim was hurting himself by dwelling on a problem, turning it over and over in his head until he was drowning with no way to pull himself out.  
No doubt even now he was wracking himself for what he viewed as a '_serious _mistake' one that Conner didn't think too much of. If Tim had done it for a reason, then it was fine. Even if it wasn't for a particular reason, Tim always pulled through. That's how _he _saw it anyway, but Tim's world was a world of grays, nearly impossible for the Kryptonian to navigate and even harder to _understand._

Conner leaned back, running a hand through his short, black hair with a sigh "Tim" his tone was slightly exasperated and Tim turned, bracing himself for the worst

"I don't care _what _you said, you had reasons or whatever, but you _know _we're more than friends…" he stopped, working his hands together as if trying to decide if he should continue his thought or not. Deciding that he'd better go on if he was to put Tim's conscious to rest "…I would _die _for you" _Again, I mean…and not to hurt you…because I know how rough it was the first time…but because I actually care that much for you, and I- _the second thoughts poured in like a flood and he waited, tensing for any sort of reaction from the former Robin. Had he totally messed up?

Silence stretched on and he snuck a quick look. Glancing over his shoulder to see if he could catch Tim's expression. _Oh shoot.  
_He jumped out of his seat in alarm, moving in front of Tim and crouching down, his hand on Tim's knee. "Tim, you okay?"  
Tears were flooded in Tim's eyes, his expression completely crushed as he tried to stem the flow with the edge of his sleeve. He was sobbing, fighting to hold back the tears as Conner thoughts raced desperately to figure out what he had said to trigger that reaction and how he could make it all better.

"Tim I'm _so_ sorry…I didn't mean to—" Tim shook his head, his long bangs falling into his eyes as he tried to breath. "No Conner…" he gasped, realizing that he was alarming the Meta "...you're fine…"_ You're just so perfect, darn it_ "you're just…" He dropped off, his voice in his throat. _…so utterly and painfully __**perfect.**_

Conner looked somewhat relieved and he began to rub Tim's knee gently, thumb moving repeatedly across the soft denim material of his friend's jeans, worry still lingering in his eyes.  
Tim stared at the hand in silence, following the steady rhythm of the Kryptonian's thumb before he reached out slowly, placing his hand on top of the larger one and squeezing briefly. _What would I do without you? _It was a silent thought and his eyes met Conner's, a smile lifting his face.

"You good now?" Conner spoke in a low voice and Tim nodded, wiping the last of his tears away with the back of his now damp sleeve. Someday he was going to learn to _not _cry every time he was reminded that Conner was still alive. "Yeah, Yeah I'm good…sorry" he gave a weak laugh and Conner smiled, the worry fading from his eyes as the tense atmosphere faded. Like a ray of sunshine breaking through storm clouds…  
"Do you want to come back to the farm?" Conner stood and stretched, his red plaid shirt pulling up over his sturdy leather belt, revealing a thin strip of the black shirt underneath. "There's not much to do there, but…" he rubbed his head sheepishly and Tim stood, ready to follow Conner literally _anywhere_. _Ha, let Damian wrap his evil little mind around __**that. **_"Sure".

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**TBC (?)  
Thanks for reading**


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